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Transit

by mr sterile Assembly

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  • Streaming + Download

    Immediate download of 11-track album in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.
    Bonus track with the purchasing of album.

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Goodbye, HELLo, My Daughter the Spider, Slip: A Bogan-opera-not in 3 parts, Run Peter Run, Never Mind the Threat, Here's the Distraction, Speaking in Dungs, Ba-Umf, and 22 more. , and , .

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  • CD + digital download
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    11 track album with two books of artwork to illustrate and expand on the content within.

    Drums, two basses, a Javanese gender, saxophone, poetry, rap, and holler, this album offers a slice that differs from the rest of the musical outpourings from Aotearoa New Zealand.

    A beautiful gate-fold packaging, heavy on image, lovely to hold and explore, supported by Tenzenmen DIY distro from Australia, and reproduced through Dualplover, AUS.

    19 High quality images of the art, recording process, and incidental pretty images are included in the download of this album.

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1.
Hibakusha 04:53
0 8 15 30 Sit here, count the decades on two hands Living in the shadow of no ordinary sun Life persevered, I’m amazed that I stand How did I survive being young? Twice I saw two suns shine Twice I saw the world end Parachutes fell like blossom from another tree Illuminates all once, and then again Outside, go walk with my mates Sky is blue, and nothing here seems wrong And when danger looms, the sirens agitate They called before for shelter But now the panic’s gone High above splits the belly of Enola High above, death is giving birth To Little Boy, looks like pure magnesium Fed on splitting atoms, delivers a hand-written curse What now! Get out of this place Back to my city and family safe at home Who could know? Fat Man in a secret race Soared to Nagasaki for his crowd-stopping show The worst luck, witness monumental moments The best of luck, survive terror’s history To be bestowed the cruel honour of the horror To watch the blossoms burn in ignition’s tree
2.
It’s been said time and again that there are no weapons Other than the ones that you brought And they cost a bomb, these precious, precious weapons Yet in this vast purchase you still came up with nought These are not such fine gifts you give joyously to lovers Into hands of children or lavish on your guest They arrive in terror beneath the cross fire of ‘heroes’ cover Upon the flaky gilded shoulders of your supermanlyness There’s a challenge in this classic trade To win the common heart and minds To get away with murder and maintain confidence And the monocle shines optical Why did Jesus heal the blind? To be watching 24/7 this bloated proud offense Tight reigned, these monsters Media, science & belief These fucked artists gave birth To a beast called a Daisy Cutter Tucked in shadow and determined Orchestrate this ‘Triumph of the Will’ Praise the peace delivered By the dandy Bunker Buster
3.
I Robert 06:20
I am a man to gather data's dust I am a man of sneaky schemes I am a man of hidden intent Who is secretly sent, I stoop to any means I convey the secrets of acquaintance & friends The ambitious talk & the radical plan I am entrapment to the wait of police hands I am a man of sneaky means I am a man to gather trouble's trust I am a man who earns a buck I am a man with powerful friends Who’ll use any means while I'm in good luck I travel & meet, I sleep & I play I live this deceit, and live on good pay It's espionage in the bold light of day Don't believe what I say I am a man of errant luck Gone, it's all finished! It's all public and kaput! Leaving Robert named Crowned king of ill-repute Hard drive got corrupted Reveal the evidence in email It was the Scores of police contact That tore away the veil Is, Is he? Isn't he? Isn't he? Is! S P Y I am a man of tradition unmasked I am a man with a decade laid waste I am a man whose friends have all split This Judas kiss tastes of shame & disgrace I collected & kept, I passed it along The gossip & gas in the big hunt for wrong To the powers in power who plan & respond Who have left me & gone With the fallout of this famed disgrace
4.
Whyt 07:27
Yeah everybody’s caught in this war Between better judgment and acquiescence In the minds’ battlefields perception Provokes decision so be aware It’s psychological abuse to deny What should be, but isn’t Too quickly discounted are dreams For debilitation, madness …Whyt (Te Kupu) Go scan the horizon, for a flag promoting peace Find a dove with an olive branch, a roasting tray underneath Look for the holy man, find the filings of his sharpened teeth Seek the truth behind the spin, get pepper-sprayed by police Sometimes a shoulder’s needed They’re compassionless these flocks of shells Then your confidence fails you and you damn it all to hell There’s a minefield in the playground, it’s explosive in your mind Beware those claiming righteousness, advance the might of any kind In a world set to label you, your moods and shopping needs defined On the stage the wrongs put right, you struggle to find the time Sometimes a shoulder’s needed when living’s like a prison cell Restraint maintains the status quo it’s sugar sweetened I can tell The sun melts away the night, if you let it you’ll feel warm Ma said, “Don’t ever play with fire”, now it’s turning up to burn The camp’s expand in Purity and sing the Lord his love is stern And proclaim the original sin, was to question and to learn Sometimes a shoulder’s needed or some shelter or a meal When freedom’s gained at thrice the price Can you buy the health to heal? Sometimes a shoulder’s needed or some shelter or a meal It’s a miracle you’re an optimist, ‘cos sometimes your hell is real We fight the fight for improvement Stop them ecocidal lunatic confusement Because we nah dead although them continue killing Maiming, executing, imprisoning, polluting All this crime that them do cannot defeat The purpose, the will, the words to speak The truth, the fact, no hidden crap Just stay on track, just stay on track (Te Kupu)
5.
Pop Sickle 04:59
Hidden to the world, just below the Desert road At war, amongst the tussock, in the cold Partners? Only partly to these confidential men ‘Til you will not do what you’ve been told Talk floats free, swimming in the southern sky Via code, culling chatter, and assess Fragments of a sound, find exact frequencies Then deliver all the data at behest Block Buchanan, there’s no home in this port Civil stand, no place to anchor, challenge made ‘Know you place’, states the radio-silent reprimand If compliant, could the Rainbow have been saved? Penance built on action, construct a second base Bigger ears, expanded reference, tighter nets Modern, motivated, collude on rules of trade Deny complicit when the human targets bled Hoist on truck Garden tool Firm belief Wild luck April night Minus fog Just as well Ditch the truck By the fence Wires cut Father’s snip Has no spark Bypass guard To the dome Go on foot In the dark Stand at base Reason clear Hesitate? Do the task Hide the blade To the hilt Slow exhale Faceless mask Watch deflate Flaccid tent Inflate hope In bold contrast No crown of satellites, no electric fence No silence or denial, or fear of jurisprudence With personal around the clock, all resource available Could not stop the honest work of these three men And a single sickle
6.
No one likes mirrors Unless it’s what we like to see A storm of smoke and horror Always shifting in periphery Love it when ourselves reflect The flaws all photoshopped unseen And believe the centre of this universe Is a continent called ME Accept me as your online friend Gratify, again, repeat Consumption brings fulfillment’s gain Will I ever be complete? Contentment gained at twice the price CREATIVE is a season’s theme Raised to reach for highest hopes And settle for a shopper’s dream This wasteland of new wonder Offline is out of beat Where convenience feeds opinion Here there’s new and obsolete With no sense of really how it was And less of how the market schemes We bailed out the failed capital And let nostalgia reign supreme
7.
Intimidation and harassment by agents of the state Outlawing opposition, criticism, manufacturing hate Restricting what can be said, accessed or read And if you protest strong enough you may be found dead Imprisoned, overcome by public fear and suspicion In the name of democracy exercising fascism! Tricked into compliancy because you thought your vote could speak Thought you were really saying something But ahh, you’re just bugged and weak To such an extent you can’t perceive this dastardly state terrorism Brow beaten by conformism, an apologetic fellow necessarily Upholding and assisting a failed capitalist society (Te Kupu) Check my house on Google Earth, see me stand in my backyard I’ve seven different passwords, a PIN code and a plastic card Watch me on the cameras, in the streets and in the malls Read the transcripts of transmissions from my interesting calls Logging on, logging off, checking in, track and trace The electronic shadow left from accessed stuff in cyberspace I’m south side now from Huxley, Orwell too is just behind GPS to check my transit, SIS to bug my ride Fingerprints and DNA, the electro hum of 0 1 Scan the love songs in my texts from your blow-up house in ECHELON Privacy has had its’ day, print my face for show and tell These methods are for hidden men the legacy of COINTELPROtected by the weight of state, defended by the party line Profit needs security and progress is a state of mind
8.
Stella 05:01
My daughter’s with my mother In my country far away Gone from home for two years In search of better pay I missed her first and second I might be home when she turns four And I can not see my star shine While here in Singapore What similarity exists Between this city and my home? I’m here watching others thrive While I miss my child grow I left for hope and currency From the struggle of being poor And I can not see my star shine While here in Singapore The current of this commerce Makes me glean across the border I tell myself it’s normal And I do it for my daughter Yet it’s hard to reconcile To work and work for barely more And I can not see my Stella shine While here in Singapore
9.
Drought 04:52
Who brought this stuff? Falling down for free Wash the salt from your skin before it meets the salt of the sea Who brought this stuff? Who owns the tap owns the vein Who can lock the Commons? Who can sell the air and the rain I am thirsty, I am parched. I’m contained in a fluid line Can I buy a glass I am thirsty, I am parched. I’m coursing in a growing line Can I buy a glass Who caught this stuff? That laps around your feet Runs down from highest hill top, to the flood & thirsty heat Who caught this stuff? Who owns the pipe owns the dream Who can bank the current, and cast demands on a silver stream I am thirsty, I am parched. I’m standing in a fluid line Can I fill a glass I am thirsty, I am parched. Ride the swell in a growing line Can I fill a glass There’s 5 of us, fitting tight, in 3 rooms Joe lost his flat and needs to come back home Baby’s in a mess, I’m under stress Mother watch the skin to see infections grow Times are tough, money’s tight. Swelling bills Gas ‘n spuds, heat ‘n rent, ‘n water in the tub What wastage is mine, on garden or washing line You make it my fault when you say I dry the rivers up The rising costs with no stop. Now user pays We just about cope, just about most days Wallet tightly zipped. Cents add up with loose drips It’s meal or medicine, but can’t have it both ways Dam the letter box. More demands, they overflow Plug up the leak but I sense it never stops Payments have to wait, this thirst never sates No water for my kids, but you never turn your sprinkler off (mr sterile, Maria McMillan) Who taught this stuff? This ration of priority With the fertile words of drought still keep the Cake-Tin green Who taught this stuff? Who owns the oars owns the course Who can sets restraints on the leakage of a fluid force
10.
Bulldozer blames the broken homes Bullets blame the broken bones Fist blame the fallen moans Bully blames the victim Tower’s tale of fleeing feet Sniper’s tale of aim and bleed Wall’s tale of cordoned peace Tell tales on the victim Doesn’t matter who’s the holy one in the promised land Only who’s continuing the disaster of genocide on man Blame the soldier not the stone, the throw, the hand See a murder excused by the invader’s demands These goliath massacres witnessed by the world Displacement occupation where imposers build Upon ancient scriptures used to justify walls Atrocities and horrors for refusing alien rule Bulldozers, despair, repel, dismantle Detention, terror, demolition, torture Checkpoints, intifada, curfew, lookout tower A home with no restrictions, no anguish, no slaughter These misguided axes, vicious in their misery Seeking to exterminate while asking for sympathy These mighty olive trees, radiant majesty Sustenance of land and people universally(Te Kupu) The axe blames the fallen olive tree The olive tree falls to the blaming axe Falling to the axe the olive tree is blamed The steal of the blade says the trunk of the tree attacked
11.
Transit 04:34 video
We take a step, a step towards nowhere Never leave the known, the now and here Walk in the rain to the grey sameness Use a blaming game to fuel our fears We take a step, a step towards nowhere All we know is NO, and hope is where? Keeping the pain in blanket greyness A cynical refrain, a snide ‘who cares’ Stuck, here in transit What vision for destination? What vision is needed If it’s only now? If it’s only here? If it’s always now? If it’s always going? If it’s going, gone We take a step, a step towards nowhere Make an empty move, no thoughtful pause Inflame a claim to secure containment In calamity’s name we change the law We take a step, a step towards nowhere In the squalling maul of flapping jaws Quick change the names to contain reflection That the the nowhere was the Now Here before Man swallows his own tail Open mouth expectant waiting to swallow Woman swallows her own tail Open mouth expectant, waiting to swallow

about

Recorded at Mike Gibson's Inca Studios, the old home of the NZ SIS, the Security Intelligence Service, Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealand.

credits

released February 25, 2011

mr sterile: Drums, lyrics, vocals, noises
Chrissie Butler: Bass, vocals
Aaron Lloydd: Bass
Jeff Henderson: Saxophone
Nell Thomas: Gender (Javanese gamelan)
Maria McMillan: Poet, words in Drought
Dean Hapeta: Recording, lyrics & vocals
Mike Gibson: Recording, mixing, mastering.

Artisits:
Campbell Kneale
Tao Wells
Garage Collective
James Robinson
Stefan Neville
Jeff Henderson
Andrew Ross
Suhartono
Deborah Barton
Roger Morris
Kerry Ann Lee

For this project, all the above members, musician, word smiths, and visual artists, are included in the pantheon of members-of-mr-sterile-Assembly.

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Home of skirted Records, stable of DSLB, vegetable.machine.animal, mr sterile Assembly and assorted side projects

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